Stabs At The Heart || ONGOING || Dnf

{Chapter 23} Argument

TW: Strong Language

Before I knew it, winter break had come along. There were 3 more days until Christmas and I had nothing planned. Though I was disappointed that I was no longer going to California, I knew it was a well-deserved punishment.

There was no word from Clay but I tried to keep my mind off of him. Eventually, I was going to confront him but I wasn't allowed to leave the house. Obviously that rule could be easily broken since my mom was working a 16 hour shift.

My time at home became boring and repetitive. After the first couple of days I got sick of watching TV. And the internet only made my brain feel like it was rotting. I never had the motivation to read whatever books were lying around even if it was good for me. So my last resort was going on walks.

Walking brought relief to me because it decreased my feelings of isolation in an empty household. Most nights I would call Nick and Karl. We would play games, screen share movies at a low frame rate, talk, or sometimes just do our own things.

Once I started making more in person interactions when leaving the house, I started to feel a lot better. That school brought me constant pain and mental self-destruction. Ever since my mom pulled me out, my independence felt good and no longer like a daily burden.

But from being too caught up in my own head, I decided to go for a walk; except it was in the same area where a specific person lived. I left the house with my wired earbuds and listening to music, completely oblivious to my location.

I was making my way in the direction towards a park that I used to stop by often. But the music that I was listening to had got me so distracted that I was in shock when I looked up.

The people before me were Clay and his friends. My entire body froze as soon as they recognized me.

"What's the twink doing here?" said one of Clay's friends.

"You really missed us that much didn't you Georgie?" mocked one of the guys as they were approaching me. Clay was looking anywhere but my direction, he could tell that I was eyeing him down. As the rest of the group spoke nonsense into my face, I was only focused on Clay as if I was trying to communicate to him telepathically.

My body received a hard push, "Hey are you fucking ignoring us!?" yelled a tall figure.

"That's enough Will," said Clay as he pulled his friend back by the shoulder.

"Yo what the fuck is your problem?"

I didn't want to be in the middle of this. The park wasn't even on my mind anymore, I just wanted to be home and safe. Suddenly, Clay grabbed my arm and started dragging me away from the group.

"Let go of me asshole!" I was screaming while Clay only gripped my arm harder. His hand was clutched onto my injured forearm and causing a burning pain.

"That fucking hurts!" Clay finally let go of me and threw me in the direction towards his car. He opened the door and I wasn't even given time to process a thought, I was already being pushed into the front seat. As we drove past Clay's group, their faces were filled with looks of disgust and confusion.

"You dipshit! Why'd you throw me in your goddamn car!?" I screamed to Clay.

"I needed to get you away from those guys okay!? You obviously didn't want to be there," he yelled back.

"But what makes you think I want to be here with you!?" The urge to open the car door and jump out had run through my body.

"Can't we just talk?" Clay said, trying to be gentle. The softness in his voice made me sick.

"Okay. Let's fucking talk. Pull over right now."

"George, I want to get hom-" Clay started to say but I interrupted him. "No. Pull the fuck over right now." He did as I said. The car pulled up to an empty parking lot of a church.

We were both quiet for several minutes. Clay said he was going to grab something from the convenience store across the street and asked if I wanted anything. I told him no. Once he left and was out of sight, I couldn't help but tear up.

You still have a chance to run. Yeah, I'll just take off! I'm sure the house isn't far.

But I couldn't get myself to open the door. Confrontation is something that I dread and yet a part of me wanted to scream in Clay's face. Eventually, the car door opened.

"I got you a soda just in case," Clay said while handing me a can of coca-cola. I told him thanks and we continued to sit in silence.

"Why do we keep doing this? I feel like we've been here before," I started.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly.

"I don't know. It's like we're stuck in a cycle and I want it to end. I'm so sick of your bullshit." It was hard to control the tone in my voice as I started to get more and more upset.

"Yeah."

"What the fuck do you mean 'yeah'!? I can't fucking trust you when you instantly go back to your friends like a leech and start beating me up again! How can you expect me to get along with you when all of high school I have just been a pawn in your game?" Uncontrollable tears began to fall onto my lap. I looked up to see a quiet and pathetic boy, not saying anything back to me.

"Don't you understand how difficult this can be for me too? I have set an image of myself that everyone expects me to be, it would be impossible for me to rip that apart!"

"Please Clay don't give me this bullshit about your goddamn image. I cannot sympathize with you when you made my life a living hell! When was the last time you thought about someone other than yourself!?"

As our screams roared louder, the two of us were weakened to the point of crying. The argument got so escalated that we were yelling over each other and no longer listening to a single word. Suddenly, Clay stopped and went quiet. The silence was long enough for us to gather ourselves back to sanity.

"All this screaming, it's just like my parents," Clay said with his face cupped into his hands.

"I just, don't feel heard. You keep defending yourself, why can't you listen?" My voice was quiet because the yelling had gotten to me.

"I'm sorry, it's a force of habit. But look George, I will let you scream at me as much as you need and I will pay attention to every word. I just don't want to do this here. Will you let me drive us to my house?"

"I don't want to go to your house, I want to go home."

"That's fine. We'll go to your house then," Clay said as he started the engine.

The ride was silent, not awkward but not peaceful either. Once we arrived at my house, I checked my phone.

Mom
Working the night shift for some extra bucks. Won't be home til tomorrow morning. Love you❤️

I replied to my mother's message after opening the front door. It surprised me how quick I was to let Clay in, but at this point I didn't care about anything. Before starting our conversation, I went into the kitchen to fix us up with something to eat.